Page 58 of Trapped

“If you’re not going to add anything useful to the conversation, Caivano, there’s the door.” Beau set a glass of whiskey within Rey’s reach, handing out more to the others.

“Just surprised, is all. Didn’t think I’d see the day Volkov asked for help.” A haughty sniff pierced the chilled quiet. “Especially after we so graciously offered them assistance.”

“Perhaps this would be best dealt with at a later date,” Morozov said through a lumbering growl, rising from the chair to face Caivano head on.

Volkov said something in Russian, the two falling into a savage debate that lasted mere seconds before Morozov sat back down.

“This has nothing to do with the concerns the Caivano family brought to our—”

“So, this isn’t about your bitch running off with some Beta?”

“That is not your business,” Volkov roared.

Devin ducked beneath the counter of the desk, wedging her body into the kneehole as Rey rushed around the other side. She didn’t want to see what was happening. Not as the meaty sounds of flesh connecting beat against her ears. Covering her head with her arms as if she was in the middle of the fray and not safely tucked away, she flinched with every hard blow that found its mark.

The feral sounds they made were no better. Wild noises of animals ready to tear one another apart. Worse was when she recognized Rey and Beau among them.

Devin screamed as the desk slid and jerked, hitting her head against the edge before toppling her from her hiding space. Everything seemed to stop. A span of seconds where her heart refused to beat, lungs failing to take in air. An icy tendril of terror crackling down her spine paralyzed her.

“See to her,” Volkov ground out, much further away than he had been when it started. A faint scuffle resolved with a body slamming against the paneled wall in the corner furthest from the desk.

Words became lost in the vicious sounds Rey made, but the heavy fall of his feet came to her. Pawing at Devin to check her for damage, his split lip curled at the knot forming on the back of her head from where she’d struck it.

“I’m fine,” Devin assured him in a broken whisper, though she didn’t quite have the courage to bring her gaze further than his nose. Trembling fingers skimmed his arm, his skin scalding to the touch as she stroked the fingers bruising her arm.

Rey hoisted her up into his arms to settle Devin in the big office chair, the wheels rumbling over the floor as he pushed it back to the wall before facing the waiting Alphas. Now that she had a front row seat to it all, Devin wanted nothing so much as to be back under the desk. Volkov had Morozov against the wall, holding the other man high enough his feet skimmed the floor as he strained towards the others on the opposite side of the room where Beau did much the same with Caivano. Santini sprawled against the wall beside the door, legs akimbo as he dabbed at the bloodied corner of his mouth.

“I think it’s time for you to call it a night, Caivano,” Rey growled, weight balanced on his fists as he leaned over the desk.

“You want to start something with us, boy? So be it. Kahler won’t be so appreciative of his lap dogs for it.” Caivano snarled, spittle flying from his lips.

“Bringing other business into my club won’t be tolerated. Mr. Kahler will not thank you for citing a feud within his borders. If you want to air your grievances with the Volkov family, then do so in your own territory… or theirs.”

“You’re a nothing,” Caivano seethed, fighting free of Beau’s hold to pull at his rumpled suit. “I control a town, and I’ll not be disrespected like this.”

“Show him out, Beau.”

Devin cringed as the door creaked open to reveal the weathered, drawn face of Anthony Caivano. Bushy brows crashing down to shadow his gaze, he took in the room and only entered as far as his head and shoulders.

“I’ll have Mikey bring the car around, boss,” Anthony offered quietly into the shimmering tension, opening the door more as he stepped back to admit Giacomo’s exit.

Beau’s hands were rougher than they needed to be, shoving the other Alpha out of the office before slamming it shut in his red face when Caivano turned back to sputter something lost behind the thick panel.

“Our apologies,” Morozov said on a grinding breath that strained to remain a sigh. “This is not what we wished. We shall go and—”

“We can make arrangements,” Rey cut in, hand slicing through the stiff disquiet as he waved them back to the upturned chairs. “I’ll have to run things by Kahler, but I foresee no problems in our network being able to handle your transports.”

“We would appreciate this, and of course understand there will be recompense necessary for it.”

“If I may,” Santini put in with a limping step forward. “Being at Morozov’s northern border, perhaps it would benefit us all if, in exchange for passage through my territory, you would be able to provide the means of transport for my goods. Freight trains are easier to access from there than other options… And would avoid certain conflicts.”

“This could work.” Morozov nodded.

“Work out those details amongst yourselves and get word to me,” Rey said, standing to his full height. Shoulders stiff, tension twisting through his back, he was cool and aloof. No longer the salesman, he knew they were in. “I’ll set the rest up.”

“Da, good.” Volkov rose, holding his hand out to Rey. A brief squeeze of accord, and they began filing out.

Volkov paused at the entryway, waving someone on as he leaned back through the partially opened door. Dark eyes dared to take Devin in, perusing her huddled form before he turned his gaze to Rey.

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